Nights In June
by DecemberxAngel
Summary: One was a hard partying alcoholic. The other was a clean living artist who was sick of the lies. They fell in love. It self destructed. When one is about to crash and burn, they discover that the past is much more painful then the present. RixS, AxOC, AxR


He sat alone in the very last booth, running a hand along the rim of his drink. The air pulsated with the throbbing beat of the dance music, and epileptic lights flashed in a dark rainbow of colors. The sea of dancing bodies swelled in wild waves as the people gyrated and moved to the music. Somewhere in that mass of bodies was the person he wanted more than life itself and hated even more than that.

He threw back the last of his drink and motioned to a passing waitress for another one. She winked coyly at him before going to fetch the drink, her hips swaying a little more than necessary. He suppressed the urge to gag and waited for her to return, drumming his fingers on the table, his eyes never leaving the dance floor before him. The music that oozed from the speakers was heavy, dark, and seductive, and the throng of people was dancing so that there was less then a centimeter between their glitter-sprayed skins. The air was drunk with the thick aroma of alcohol, sweat, and cheap perfume. The heady scent was giving him a pounding headache, but he wasn't going to leave yet. Not until he had gotten what he came for.

The waitress returned with his order and placed the icy glass in front of him. "You sure you don't want any liquor in that?" she asked, smirking flirtatiously. "You look like you could use some loosening up."

"No," he replied shortly. He took a sip of the club soda and lime without looking at her again. Put off, she left in a huff, but he had already forgotten about her.

As he watched the dark silhouettes of the people before him, his mind flew back, to several months before, when he wouldn't have been sitting at the booth alone.

"Where the hell are you?" he growled into the phone, anxious and furious at the same time. Even more anger sparked within him at the sound of giggles at the other end.

"Sora, I asked you where you were!"

"Aw, come on, I'm just out with some friends," his boyfriend slurred at the other end of the phone. "Come join us, Riku! It's no fun without you here."

"No," Riku said firmly, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "I don't like being around you and your friends when you drink. Come home, will you?"

Sora snorted, and Riku could picture the pout that the man was wearing at not getting his way. "Ri-iku!" he whined, "Please come? We're not that far away."

Riku sighed heavily and leaned against the wall of his apartment's living room. He contemplated just hanging up on Sora right there, but his conscience would have weighed too much on his already stressed mind. He sighed again when he heard Sora laugh—the man knew he had gotten his way.

"We're at The Phoenix, see you soon!"

And the line went dead.

Riku pulled his jacket on reluctantly, wondering yet again if all of this was even worth it. He thought back to before Sora had come into his life, before the club hopping, the alcohol, and the nights of holding back his boyfriend's hair as he threw up the liquor poisoning his stomach. He remembered the many phone calls he'd made, trying to find out the whereabouts of Sora when he hadn't come home, the times he'd wake up in the morning to find him passed out on the couch or the floor.

All of this crossed Riku's mind before he climbed into the car and made his way to The Phoenix, wondering what state he'd find his boyfriend in.

It was an hour later, and Riku still hadn't seen a trace of Sora. He drank the last of his fourth club soda and went back to watching the sea of twisting bodies before him, the sight making him slightly sick. He decided that he had waited long enough and had just stood up to leave when he finally caught sight of what he was looking for.

Sora was pressed up against the door by a stranger in shiny glittered leather, their fingers entwined in each other's hair in a passionate kiss.

Hurt and rage burned in Riku's heart, but in the back of his mind he had been expecting this. He walked slowly over to where his boyfriend was making out with another man, and with one swift motion broke them apart. Sora looked at him, bewildered, before a sly smile made its way onto his face.

"Hi Riku," he said, "How are you?"

"What's his name?" he asked him, his voice slow and calm. The man Riku was referring to stood behind him, upset at being interrupted but not drunk enough to mess with the silver-haired fury.

"Um…" Sora frowned, then giggled. "I don't know."

Riku broke. He punched Sora across the mouth, sending him crashing to the floor with blood on his lips. He looked up at him, his expression more sober then it had been in a while, and brought a hand to his lips in surprise.

"I want you out of my house," Riku said. "Your things will be outside of the door."

He turned to walk out of the club. Sora scrambled to his feet, calling after him in desperation. "Riku, wait!"

"Go to hell." Riku didn't look back as he walked out and into the cold night.

They had broken up four months before. Or rather, Riku had thrown Sora out four months before. For the first several weeks he hadn't stopped calling, begging to be forgiven and taken back. Riku, however, would have none of it. He was sick of the cheating, of the drinking and the lies. He had never like it, and he sure as hell wasn't going to put up with it any more, especially for someone as flaky as Sora.

Riku sighed when the overly flirtatious waitress came swaying by again. He took another gulp of his soda, keeping his eyes on the shiny table top. The music pulsed through the air and the lights flashed darkly, reminding the silver-haired man how much he hated clubs. He checked his watch again in irritation. 10:45. He knew that his friends were never on time, but almost an hour was ridiculous.

"Hey, Riku!"

Riku turned to see Roxas and Axel, the two men he had been waiting for, come weaving through the dancing crowd toward his table. They collapsed into the booth, both sweaty and tired from fighting their way through the crowd.

"Took you two long enough," Riku growled, irritated. Axel grinned and motioned to the waitress.

"Three more club sodas," he ordered. When she was gone, he turned back to Riku, brushing some fiery hair away from his face.

"Nice to see you too," he said. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Riku lied. Roxas raised an eyebrow at him.

"Stop lying, Riku. How are you really holding up?" the blonde asked.

Riku glared at his friend. "I'm fine," he gritted. "Why were you two so freaking late?"

"Blame Axel," Roxas snorted. "My car's in the shop, so he was supposed to be my ride, but he didn't pick me up until twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry, guys," Axel said, though he didn't look apologetic at all. "Lane didn't want me to go anywhere tonight—it took me a while to convince him it was all right."

Only Riku noticed the crestfallen expression Roxas made the moment Axel mentioned Lane's name. Lane and Axel had been a couple for six months, and the redhead had never noticed how miserable Roxas was whenever he had to be around Lane. Riku had contemplated telling Roxas to just tell Axel how he felt, but in the end he knew it wasn't his business. Those two would just have to work it out on their own.

The waitress returned and put the drinks down. Roxas crushed the piece of mint that came in the soda between his fingers, and Axel just sat and watched the mass of dancers. They were silent for several minutes.

"Okay, guys, I know you asked me here for a reason," Riku finally prompted. "What is it?"

Roxas and Axel shared a look before Roxas sighed. "It's about Sora," he began.

Riku's expression instantly hardened. "I don't want to talk about him," he said firmly.

Axel looked beseechingly at his friend. "Riku, he hasn't been doing very well since you broke up with him. Strike that, I lied—he's falling completely apart. He needs your help."

Riku shook his head, bitterness in his voice. "I doubt he's worse off then when we were together."

Roxas rolled his eyes. Ever since Sora had been kicked out, he had been sleeping at the blonde's house. "He hasn't been getting home until five or six in the morning, he hasn't stopped drinking, and I'm afraid he might be suicidal. If we don't do something soon we're going to lose him."

A tremor of worry worked its way through Riku, but he quickly smothered it. "I don't care," he said. "This is Sora's fault, not mine. He cheated on me, remember?"

"Come on, Riku, it's not like he slept with the guy," Axel snapped. "Everyone makes mistakes." The redhead sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know you're hurt, but please, Sora needs you. Don't look at him as your ex; look at him as a friend, a friend that is in a lot of danger. Will you help us?"

Riku glared at the dance floor for several long minutes. Somewhere in that mass was Sora, dancing, drunk, and just a few nights away from crashing and burning. He tried to recall any of the good memories of he and Sora, but all that came to mind was the cinnamon-haired man entwined with a complete stranger. Hurt and anger twisted at his heart, and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing up. "I can't."

He walked away without a word, leaving Roxas and Axel shaking their heads in disappointment. He dove onto the dance floor and began fighting his way through, determined to get himself out of there and back home.

As he pushed and shoved through the crowd, he knocked into one unsuspecting dancer and sent the slight man sprawling to the floor. He glanced down and saw the face of the man he had spent the last four months hating.

Sora had lost at least fifteen pounds off of his already slender body. He looked pale and ill, his whole body trembling slightly as if with cold. His hair was messy and his face was drawn, but the sapphire eyes that met his were the same intense, emotion-filled orbs that had first drawn Riku to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Roxas and Axel were there in a moment.

"Sora! Are you all right?" Roxas exclaimed, grabbing his friend around the waist and pulling him to his feet.

The man didn't reply, his gaze never leaving Riku's shocked face. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered and he fainted, collapsing limply in Roxas' arms.

"Get him outside," Axel ordered, and they quickly made their way to the door. Riku followed a little behind, emotions churning inside him.

Once they were outside in the chilly air, Roxas and Axel looked at Riku expectantly. The silver-haired man gazed icily at his ex-boyfriend before sighing heavily.

"Bring him to my apartment," he said, "And I'll help you. But once he's better, he's gone. I don't love him."

Roxas laid Sora's body down in the back of Axel's car, and Riku climbed into his own car. As they began the long drive back to his home, he repeated his hate filled mantra again and again.

"I don't love him."


End file.
